Second Chances
by BlackBirdSigh
Summary: In this world you get one chance. But when a terrible wrong happens...sometimes you get to go back. The problem is...second chances are never free. Will continue as soon as I can find the disk it's on.
1. Alpha

Second Chances, is a little something I brewed up at about three in the morning after watching Constantine.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but if I did I'd still write this crazy stuff.

Thank you to valkyrie-alex as my wonderful and encouraging beta.

Second Chances...

Alpha.

It wasn't warm or cold, nor bright or dark. Everything was someplace in between. Suspended between crushingly heavy and nauseating weightlessness. Not especially quiet or loud. It was just you and your thoughts if you had any left. Eating wasn't necessary neither was sleeping, breathing, or anything else.

This place went by many names...

Living Death.

Fegefeuer.

Чистилище

Perdition.

Nothingness.

Oblivion.

Limbo.

Or most commonly called _Purgatory._

The first thing he noticed, was that he didn't know who he was, or where or anything along those lines. Also it felt as if he were in trapped in tar, surrounded immobile by some sludgy substance.

"Chas."

He knew that name. From where he didn't know for sure, but he knew it.

"Open your eyes Chas." That voice, where had he heard it? Then he realized, he hadn't open his eyes or spoken yet.

"I can't... I'm dead," he said with a smile, surprised to have a voice.

"Open your eyes, smartass." Blinking, he looked around. He had gone from floating in nothingness, to standing in a gray vastness. In the same jeans and shirt he last remember being in, but they were in the same gray as everything else. Instinctively his hands went for his hat, not finding it he started turning around he looked for the source of the voice he had heard. He stuck his hand in the deep pockets of his jeans, for a moment he thought about whistling but it didn't really seem right, did the dead whistle? He also notice his favorite jacket was gone along with his socks and shoes. Looking down he saw a quarter sized black spot on the floor, squatting down to get a better look, he touched it tentatively with a finger.

"Funny how a single spot can stand out, isn't it?"

Looking up at first all he saw were the pale blue wings that stood out like a patch of sky on a stormy day. "So. Angel?" he asked, pointing at the being. Nod. "Dead?" he asked pointing to himself. Nod. "Okayyy... and this ain't Heaven or Hell, is it?" he asked as he waved a hand around, a truly perplexed look on his face. He got another 'nod' in return. "Um, so where then?" He squinted, trying make something out of the angel besides wings.

"I believe you know it as, Purgatory," the voice said, taking on a feminine tilt. "You know, where all the un-baptized babies supposedly go." The figure because clearer, like wiping the dirt and road grime from a car window. Long wavy brown hair, delicately pulled back in the front, was brushed with golden strands. "What do you think?" She waved around. All of his memories; emotions and what made Chas Chandler who he was, returned with a casual wave of her hand.

"Umm not what I expected..." Chas said rubbing the side of his head, the remainder of his memories leaked back in, like water going through a sieve. "Aah, who are you by the way?" he asked, and then choked back a surprised shout as the visions of his death flashed like a strobe light. Almost stumbling, he blinked back the pain. He could feel his death again; crushed rub cage, the shattered spine, where his skull had fractured and worst of all was when his right lung had exploded from the sheer force of it. Gasping he looked up at the angel his eyes wide, brows drawn tight. "What the hell was THAT?" Chas asked for some reason feeling betrayed.

"That was a start... if you want it." The angel looked Chas in the eye; her eyes were the same blue as her wings, her pupils in the shape of a seven-point star. He got a good look at her, she was just a few inches shorter than he was, and her frame was fine but burning with power.

"Wh.. who are you?" he asked holding his ribs, expecting to find them broken.

"Who am I?" she asked smiling, placing a finger to her lip she tapped it thought fully. "I've been called many things over the years, unlike the others that are always the same. "Apollyon-Abaddon, Hemah, Kafziel, Kezef, Ha-Mavet, Mashhit, Suriel, Yehudiah, Yetzer-hara... So many, many more."

"Oh Shit." Chas suddenly realized who he was looking at.

"But you can call me Azrael," she said smiling.

"Angel of Death?"

Nod.


	2. Beta

To Falcon Horus and CenizaDearest, thanks for the reviews.

Again I own NOTHING.

Now then, one with the show.

**Beta**

"So, why? I mean, why aren't I still floating around or in Hell or something?" Chas asked, sitting crossed legged on the 'ground'.

"Why do you think you belong in Hell?" She asked curious, a single wing arching along with a sculpted brow.

"Well, why should I be in Heaven? I never got rid of any demons, or repented or anything," he said, irate. That he had gotten himself killed. He stared at his bare foot.

"Chas..." she said with a sigh, kneeling in front of him trying to get a look in his eyes. "You went into that hospital knowing you would probably die; you hoped you wouldn't, but you knew. You were born from an evil woman, and you were GOOD." Azrael smiled and left her hand touch his cheek. Her hand was cool, but he was filled with warmth. "You helped hold back Memnoch long enough for Constantine to stop that spoiled brat, and in turn got himself a new set of lungs." Standing she stretched her wings and arms, looking down at him she looking as if she were listening to something he couldn't hear.

"What?" He asked standing. She looked at him with a blank gaze, suddenly more business like.

"It's time to make a choice Chas. You can on to haven, enjoy eternal everlasting joy, light and pleasure blah blah blah... Or…" she said pausing.

"OR?" he prompted.

"Go back, and have another go, you could back and be alive, with a little catch," she said with a shrug.

"Figures," Chas said returning the gesture.

Smiling, she knew he would take it. "You go back and you'll have the abilities and skill of a hunter... Like John, only without the baggage." He stared at her blankly. "Chas? That means you could screw up and end up in hell."

"I'll do it," the cabbie said jumping up, completely serious.

"Brilliant," Azriel said with a smile.

"But what about..." he started when she cut him off.

"To late, see you dirt side." She raised a graceful hand and winked before snapping.

Then there was nothing...


	3. Gamma

_Ahh sweet sent of a new chapter. Like a new roll of electrical tape._

_Again Thank You to valkyrie-alex for her Beta'ing and sitting up with me while I typed. If you haven't checked out her stories yet, then why the hell not?_

_As for the change in his name you see. In the Movie his goes by Chas Kramer, in the Comic and on IMDB his is Cas Chandler. So it's a six in one hand half a dozen in the othertype of deal. Prize for guessing where I got the date in this story from!_

_Now on to yon' story!_

_P.S- I own nothing._

**Gamma**

COLD! Painful biting cold. At first he tried to curl up on his side, but two things stopped him. Firstly, the fact he was blocked in on either sides by freezing masses. And secondly, the pain in his entire body. His lungs ached like they hadn't been used in God only knew how long. Breathing in felt like it took forever, while exhaling was in rough broken coughs. Muscles felt bogged down by a cruel mix of stiff atrophy and having your ass handed to you by a scociopathic archangel. To top it all off Chas realized he was naked.

Opening his eyes, he immediately wished he hadn't. Forcing his hands up, he touched the semi-opaque plastic body bag. He wanted to yell for help until he saw in faint tracings of RavenScar hospital on the bag. Biting his lip, Chas fought against the fatigue poking a finger through a ventilation hole. He forced the fingers on his other hand to do the same, pulling slowly. He groaned as his body protested. It would be so easy to just lay down and go back to sleep forever.

Gasping in a mix of pain and exhaustion, Chas found himself sitting up in the RavenScar morgue. Normally he would be saying a stream of curses, but he was far to busy shivering and trying to gather a coherent thought on what to do next. Looking around he grimaced at the bodies on either side in their own bags. Despite chattering teeth, he muttered an apology to the bag as he crawled over it. Still shivering, he heard a clink' when his feet tentatively touched the ground. About to look for the source of the sound, his knees promptly gave out, and then he blinked back the horror of looking at his very own toe tag.

**Name: CharlesChandler**

**DOD: 2/06/05**

Who would have guessed a piece of red plastic could inspire such shock and revulsion? Shaking, he slipped the tag off his toe. He gripped it so hard he heard a faint crack of plastic. Pulling himself up, he looked around.

He had been here once before with Constantine, checking out a possession fatality. Unless something had changed in the last month, there would be a line of lab coats just past the door and probably a sleeping clerk or security guard depending on the time.

Using the only line of tables for support, Chas made his way to the doorless opening. He muttered another apology when he accidentally touched a body. Moving the heavy strips of the plastic curtain, he saw the night guard sleeping, as hoped. He quickly grabbed one of the starched white lab coats and closed it tightly around his body. In one of the pockets somebody had been kind enough to forget their bus pass for him. Giving one last look at the sleeping guard, he ran out into the Los Angeles night.


	4. Delta et Epsilon

_What? Still no guesses for the date on Chas' toe-tag? Sigh _

_Well alright, you are a fickle lot. No I'm kidding. Y'all are great._

_ANYWAY!I know to most of you my chapters my LOOK short, but I think they get the point across without rushing._

_As always THANK YOU ever so much to valkyrie-alex for hercrazy mad beta skills. And thank you all for reviewing. And I still own nothing._

_Now I bring you **Delta et Epsilon**._

**Delta.**

Fifteen minutes later, a stuttering guard woke an extremely pissed off John Constantine. To inform him that the body of his late apprentice was gone. Two minutes later Constantine was out the door and hailing a cab.

**Epsilon.**

The newly revived teen did his best to ignore the looks from the other late night passengers on the bus. An elderly woman looked like she was trying to decide if she should ask if he was all right or pretend she didn't see him. She decided on the former.

"Are you all right dear?" She asked sweetly. Chas, looked up at her, startled. Everyone here had taken to muttering 'freak' or whistling at him.

"Oh yeah... yes ma'am," he said with a smile, feeling bad about lying, but it was necessary.

"Just checking dear, after all you're barefoot in L.A," she said, still looking at him with concern.

"Oh," Chas said laughing nervously, "My brother and his friends; it's a bad joke on their part," he said in false disappointment and shame, his acting abilities put to the test.

"Oh my!" she said frowning, getting up as she neared her stop. "Well I hope you tell your folks as soon as you get home."

"Yes ma'am. I'll do that." He waved to her as she disembarked. Sighing, he leaned against the pole he had been holding onto, about to relax when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck sand on end. Looking up, he saw a homeless man's face melting away, to the grey rottingdemon inside. As the bum started to get up, Chas made for the emergency brake, causing the demon half-breed to stumble back into his seat. Barefoot or not, Chas Chandler wasn't going any further with THAT _thing_ on the bus. Throwing himself into the street, he narrowly missed a car before running for his life.


	5. Zeta

_Thank you for you reviews and thoughts and comment and funny little emoticons. More are always wanted and well cared for._

_As ALWAYS I own nothing... Well I did just buy a **killer** new pair of shoes. SQUEE!_

_BUT ANYWAY!_

_I figure I've been kinda leaving dear John outta this thus far. _

_At least for the most part. _

_So this is a bit of tall dark and moody for you. _

_---Thanks again Valkyrie-Alex.(_**Go read her _Stuff!)_**

**Zeta.**

Constantine was pissed. No, that was far to mild of a word for it. Supremely fucking pissed would be a far better description. He glared at the security guard sitting behind the desk and the man, despite his large size, withered under Constantine's dark gaze.

"So let me get this straight," the raven-haired man said, itching for a cigarette. "Your were just sitting here on your fat ass! And the next thing you know, the body is gone?"

"Ye... yes Sir." The man wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of his hand. "I was doing my rounds, and the body was gone," he fudged a little on the truth.

Constantine looked at him, hands in fists so tight they threatened to draw blood. Turning sharply from the desk, he stalked into the cooler. He looked around, trying to get a feel for anything that wasn't quite right. Looking at the empty body bag, he let his finger tips touch the torn edge of the plastic. He might not have been a trained detective, but even he could tell the bag had been torn open from the inside.

"What the fuck?"

Looking around, he could see some of the tables were out of alightment form the others, as though they had been pushed or leaned on. Eyebrows knitted, he looked to the entrance again, and quickly walked out. The man behind the desk looked as if he was starting to doze again. Walking behind the desk, he snatched the man up by the collar of his shirt.

"You, get me the surveillance tapes of this area now," he ground out, then let the man fall back into his seat. The man tried to stutter out an excuse for a moment, before Constantine gave him another glare. "I said... **_now_**, asshole." The man gave a shaky nod and started gathering the digital files.

Constantine stepped, his nearly black eyes surveyed the street, still trying to get a feel for something. Twenty-four hours ago, he would have lit up a cigarette, but then twenty-four hours ago he didn't have a set of cancer free lungs and a new lease on life. Taking out his pack of gum, he smacked in his hand out of habit before putting a stick in his mouth. Chewing angrily, he didn't pick up a damn thing from the street, not from heaven or hell. His attention was drawn back inside when he heard the security guards shaking voice.

"Hh... here you go sir," he said handing him the small blue disc. "You can w..watch it in the other r...room if.. if you want." Snatching the disc away, Constantine looked at it and nodded. He walked into to the room he had been directed to. Taking a moment to adjust the tracking, he hit 'play' and leaned on the small TV with one arm, watching intently.

The time ran normally at the bottom of the screen as the black and white image started its stream. Then it happened. The light in the room got brighter for a moment, and then returned to normal. Constantine felt the hair on his arms stand on end for at second. Squinting, he jumped back from the TV when one of the body bags started moving.

"FUCK!" he said under his breath, before looking back at the screen. The bag squirmed for a moment. Then, slowly, like watching a drowning man come to the top of a river, the body bag tore open and the now apparently living corpse sat up. Watching the screen intently, he didn't notice when he took out his old lighter. Open, light, close. The body rolled over the other corpse to get to the floor. Open, light, close. The figure falling and removing the piece of plastic on the toe.

"Holy Shit..." he whispered, starring at the screen. Clutching his lighter, he continued watching the TV, when the last shot had played, the Exorcist tore from the room with the only copy of this event in his coat pocket.

"You," Constantine said, pointing to the guard, "keep your mouth shut!" He slapped three fifties on the counter. "Got it asshole?" The man nodded, and then slumped into his chair after the Demonologist left.

"What a prick..." The guard said shaken.


End file.
